


Hard Candy Christmas

by Morgana



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: M/M, Object Insertion, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-01
Updated: 2010-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-06 02:39:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morgana/pseuds/Morgana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spike faces some tough choices for Christmas</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hard Candy Christmas

“Yeah, I got it.... Whatever it takes, right.... We'll be there, I promise.... See you soon.” Angel hung the phone up and glanced over at the closed bedroom door, wondering what the hell had possessed him to tell Buffy that they'd go to England for Christmas. The idea might not've been a bad one if she'd called before they left LA, but she'd waited until they were in New York, and now he had to tell Spike that they were expected in London in two days.

Spike, who'd spent the last three days sulking in his room, not even coming out for blood. It was enough to make Angel wish he hadn't agreed to this stupid trip in the beginning. He still didn't know what the hell Spike was thinking, insisting that New York was the perfect place to spend Christmas, especially when he knew very well that Angel hadn't celebrated the holiday in well over a hundred years. And he'd done his best to let Spike enjoy himself, although he thought the city was too noisy, and all the bells and carols the younger vampire seemed so enamored of just added to the din. The crowds at Macy's and Bloomingdale's were irritating, full of whining children and harried parents, the lights all over too bright, and the cold enough to stop anyone with any sense at all from going outside.

Nothing had seemed to faze Spike, though - he'd oohed and aahed like a child in front of the holiday windows at the stores, plowed through the throngs of people to check out 'just one more store, pet', begged to go ice skating at Rockefeller Plaza the second it started to snow, and when he'd been told to behave, he'd just laughed and darted off to look at something else. His wide-eyed excitement might've been cute, but Angel had been too tired to really notice or care by that point. When he'd been dragged out into the cold to see the enormous Christmas tree, he'd snapped at Spike to grow up and stop being such a spoiled child. He winced at the memory of how those blue eyes had filled with hurt and anger, right before Spike flung the candy cane he'd been sucking at Angel's head. The younger man had stalked off, only coming back to the suite before dawn, where he'd stomped into his room and slammed the door.

Now Angel was under orders to get him to come out, although he didn't have the first idea of where to start. Usually he just let Spike hole up and drink himself stupider until he was done sulking. When he came out, they'd spend a day or two rolling around in bed, then get up and go back to normal until the next time. But there wasn't time for that, not with Christmas less than a week away. He'd have to come up with something, and fast. Grabbing his coat, he headed out for a walk, hoping that maybe somewhere on the streets of this godforsaken city he could find something to make this a little easier.

Spike waited until he heard the main door to the suite close, then counted to five hundred twice before he slowly pushed his own door open. He'd thought the berk would never leave! Hurrying over to the bar, he yanked the refrigerator open and pulled several bags of blood out, shoving one into the microwave and downing another cold while he waited for it to heat. While he'd made sure to feed well before coming back to the hotel that first night, three days without blood had still managed to leave him ravenous, but after the way Angel had acted, it was worth it.

He'd known from the start that his sire didn't really want to come on this trip, but he'd thought the old boy would ease up once they were here. After all, what was better than New York at Christmastime? Of course, he hadn't figured on Angel's ability to put a damper on just about anything. It had been hard enough to listen to him grouse about crowds, hard enough to know that the joy on the faces of the shoppers was completely lost on him, and Spike hadn't dared mention the sleigh ride through Central Park that he wanted so badly after seeing how much he hated the snow. But when he'd blown up at him like that, said those things right in front of everyone... it had been too much, too hurtful. Bad enough that he had to piss all over every good memory Spike had of New York - he wasn't going to give him Christmas, too.

That was when he'd made up his mind. Somewhere along the line, Angel's apathy had given way to something deeper and darker, like some kind of untouchable cold had taken root deep within him. He'd become a different sort of vampire, sucking the life and enjoyment out of everyone around him. And sire or not, Spike realized that he had to walk away, had to get out before Angel managed to drain him, too. It didn't seem right to leave during the holidays, though, even if Angel couldn't care less about them, so he'd decided to wait until after New Year's. If he was really honest he had to admit that it was as much for his own benefit as it was for his sire's - Angel wasn't likely to really miss him when he was gone, but Spike knew the loss would stay with him for some time to come. He just wished it wasn't necessary.

The microwave beeped and he switched the bags out, practically purring as he sank his fangs into the second bag. Hot blood slid easily down his throat, the rich flavor easing the last of the hunger pangs as it filled his belly, but it took the third bag to leave him pleasantly full. Deciding to take advantage of his temporary freedom, he quickly stripped and padded into the bathroom for a hot shower, although he didn't linger as long as he'd have liked. No telling when Angel would be back, and the less time Spike spent around him for now, the better. As it was, he barely managed to toss his towels in the hamper and make it back to his room to change into clean clothes before he heard the door open again.

Angel shed his coat as soon as he was inside, teeth still chattering from the cold. He was soaked to his skin, and couldn't remember being this cold, not even at the bottom of the ocean, where the cold and dark and pressure had driven him mad. He'd been sensitive to temperature ever since he'd been turned, something Darla had never been able to explain other than to say that everyone was different, and they all had different strengths and weaknesses. He just wished his wasn't something as uncontrollable as this. Stripping his wet clothes off, he left them by the door and all but ran for the shower.

Half an hour later, the hot water was threatening to give out, so he forced himself to turn it off and get out. The towels he'd used that morning weren't on the rack, and he wondered if housekeeping had come in while he was gone, but there was another set on the counter, so he didn't worry too much about it, just dried off and yanked the large courtesy bathrobe on. The soft fabric brushed over his skin, warming and teasing him and he had to fight back a purr of satisfaction when it chased the last little bit of chill away. Thankful that the hotel provided slippers as well, he shoved his feet into them and padded over to the refrigerator. Several blood bags were missing, but he was pleased by their absence - at least Spike was feeding.

After warming two bags of blood and filling one of the oversized coffee cups with them, he turned the stereo on and punched buttons until he found a performance of La Boheme. Settling on the couch with his drink, he listened to the music, sipped his blood, and thought some more about how to get Spike to come out of his room. It had crossed his mind earlier to simply tell the younger vampire that Buffy wanted them to go to London to spend Christmas with her, but for some reason, he didn't want to resort to that just yet.

When he was finished with his blood, he got up and walked back over to the bar, setting his cup in the sink. The bag of goodies that he'd picked up sat on the counter, taunting him with the knowledge that he'd been weak enough to resort to this to get Spike to stop sulking. But it didn't stop him from filling the two mugs with the gourmet hot chocolate mix or steaming milk to add to them, or unwrapping and laying the rest of the treats out onto a platter and putting the whole thing on a tray. Telling himself that this was his very last attempt, Angel headed over to Spike's door, tray in hand, ready to bribe his childe into talking to him again.

That was, if he was ever allowed in. His first few taps on the door were ignored, and when he tried calling out, he got only, “Sod off!” in answer. Swearing under his breath, he wedged the tray between his side and the wall, then shoved the door open, barely managing to keep the precariously balanced silver platter from tumbling to the floor.

Spike spun around when he heard the door open, and if Angel hadn't been quite so pissed off, he might've been amused by the rapid change from anger to surprise that played out on the younger man's features. “What the hell -?” he managed to get out before Angel growled, “Shut up.”

The big man cleared one of the bedside tables with a sweep of his arm, then set the tray down on it with a thunk. He grabbed the mugs, walked over to Spike and shoved one into his hand. “Here.”

Spike scarcely managed to avoid getting soaked by a wave of warm liquid. He stared down at the cup, then bent to sniff it just to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. “You brought me hot chocolate?”

The barely contained laughter in the blond's voice was enough to make him grit his teeth. “Just drink it, all right? It's part of the whole Christmas... thing.”

“Oh, I get it.” Spike pressed his lips together tightly, then shook his head and held the cup out. “Don't exactly fancy charity at the moment, so if you'll have the good sense to bugger off...”

Angel shoved the outstretched hand back. “Dammit, Spike, that's not what I meant and you know it!” But the sharp blue eyes that met his said all too clearly that he knew exactly what the peace offering was meant for, and wanted none of it. The thought stung more than he'd like, and with a low growl, he snatched the chocolate away and stalked back over to the table. Both cups came crashing down on the tray, and he was about to give in and go away when he heard Spike mutter, “Bout time you got a clue.”

That did it. Snatching the first thing he touched up, he strode over to Spike and shoved the thick peppermint stick into his mouth as hard as he could. Spike choked as his mouth was suddenly filled, but Angel was beyond caring. Grabbing hold of one slender wrist, he yanked the blond forward, then turned and shoved him onto the bed. “Okay, enough trying to be nice. We're doing this my way now, and if you don't wanna hurt a helluva lot more than you ever have before, you'll shut up and listen, for a change.”

Before Spike could really register what was happening, Angel had caught his wrists up in a bruising grip, hauled them above his head and bound them to the headboard with something fuzzy that felt way too strong to be just play cuffs. He twisted, tugging hard against the restraints when he felt hands start to strip his clothes away, but they held fast. The bastard must've had something magicked up, because they weren't giving an inch, and neither was Angel as he peeled his jeans off.

The tight black T-shirt tore away with one good tug, and Angel smiled at the outraged howl he elicited with the action. “Knock it off. I'll buy you another one,” he promised. “Now, I didn't want to come on this trip, but you dragged me anyways, and now that we're here, you've spent the last three days pouting in your room like a spoiled child just because I wasn't about to run around in the snow with you like an idiot. And I've had enough of it. You wanna act like a brat, then I'll treat you like one. And you know what brats get, don't you?”

Spike tried to tell him to fuck off, but only succeeded in gargling around the saliva that was quickly filling his mouth. He could only suck on the candy cane gag and glare in response. Spoiled brat, was he? Well, whose fault was that, when he'd been abandoned by the one person who was supposed to guide him and always be there for him?

Apparently Angel wasn't waiting for a response, because as soon as he was finished stripping his childe, he turned and expertly flipped him over. One hand settled in the small of his back to hold him still as the other came crashing down on his bare ass. He ignored the muffled howl of outrage from the top of the bed, concentrating instead of raining the blows down until the pale flesh was bright pink and hot to the touch. Only then did he pause long enough to stroke the warm skin, luxuriating in the feeling of almost human heat that spilled out over his hand.

He may have started out stiff and protesting, but by the end of the spanking, Spike lay quietly still beneath his hand. Tears streaked his cheeks, his jaw ached from sucking on the thick candy stick for so long, his cock throbbed against the bedding that had grown damp long ago, and he could barely keep still under the soft touch that teased his bruised skin. When Angel drew his knees up, he groaned around his gag, eagerly anticipating the hard dick that he knew would be filling him soon.

Something lukewarm slid down his crack, and it took a second for him to recognize what it was, but when he smelled chocolate, he knew, and he moaned as his cock twitched. Fuck, his sire really was a kinky bastard! Fingers stroked through the liquid, swirling it around his hole, but he was stretched too far to shove back against them the way he wanted to do. “What is it about hurting you that just makes you prettier, hmm?” Angel mused softly. He pressed a fingertip into Spike's body, giving him only the barest touch before he withdrew. “Wanna feel something inside, boy?”

A vigorous nod answered him, followed by a tortured sound when two chocolate-covered fingers slid all the way inside. Spike groaned and sucked harder on the candy, cheeks hollowing as he drew on it in an effort to keep from embarrassing himself immediately. When a third finger slipped inside and they started twisting, a low whimper broke free. It seemed to have been the signal Angel was waiting for, because the fingers stroked his prostate hard once, then withdrew. Spike widened his stance as best as he could, closing his eyes while he waited for the press of something bigger and harder, but it never came.

Instead, a hand seized the candy stick in his mouth and pulled it back almost completely, then slid it forward once more. He opened his eyes to see Angel standing over him, rubbing his dick through his pants, dark eyes glittering as he slowly fucked Spike's mouth with the candy cane. “Suck it,” he rasped. “Show me what a good little cocksucker you are.”

Hoping that a good show might get him what he needed, Spike whimpered again and sucked harder, circling the stick with his tongue as it slid back to show his parted lips. He flicked his tongue over it like he would've a real live cock, and the moan that the action drew from his sire shivered down his spine in the very best way.

Angel slid the candy cane back in and left it there, then rubbed himself again and groaned. “Should just fuck you right now,” he muttered, smiling at the nod that answered him.

He pulled the gag free and Spike gasped, “Please! Christ, need it, Angel!”

Angel didn't answer, but he walked around to the foot of the bed, and soon the mattress dipped under his extra weight. Spike sighed and closed his eyes again, whining softly when another rush of hot chocolate slid over his skin and the fingers slipped back inside to make sure he was ready. He was more than ready- he was about ready to tear the bastard's head off if he didn't fuck him, and right now!

Something pressed against him, then began forcing its way inside him, but it didn't take long to realize that, whatever it was, it wasn't Angel! This was harder than flesh, thick and - Spike's eyes shot open when he realized what it was. The fucker was using the candy cane as a goddamned dildo! He opened his mouth to tell him to knock it the fuck off when the edge of the stick prodded his prostate and a moan escaped instead.

“Yeah, that's it. So hot for something to fill you up that you'll take anything I give you, isn't that right?” Angel purred in a dark velvet tone that Spike hadn't heard him use in years. “So fucking hot, seeing you like this, you know that?”

“Yeah?” The breathy sound of his voice might have embarrassed him, but another slide of the candy cane, and he didn't care about anything but the pleasure that flooded his body. “H - ohhh, God... how hot?”

Angel didn't answer, just rocked the stick against him, sending a shudder ripping through him. “How does it feel, baby, having that great big rod up your ass?”

“So good... so hard, like nothin' human,” Spike moaned. Another press had sparkles dancing in front of his eyes, the reward encouraging him to continue. “God, think I could come like this if you keep it up.”

“Yeah? You wanna come with me fucking you with a candy cane? Hmmm?” Angel could scarcely believe how fucking hot it was, watching Spike take the stick, seeing his hole open around it. His hand slid down to grasp his cock through his pants, rubbing and gripping as he fucked his childe with the makeshift dildo.

Spike moaned as the scent of arousal grew thick in the room. He tried to move against the candy cane, but it slid almost all the way out, leaving just the tip inside and he gasped instead. “Please... need it!” So close, he was so. Fucking. Close!

A growl tore another low sound out of his mouth as Angel wiggled the stick slightly, fucking him shallowly with it. Spike was teetering on the brink of pure insanity when his sire tilted it, then shoved it hard into him, right against his prostate. He screamed, his cock jerking as he shot in hard pulses that left his belly and the bedspread beneath him covered in come. The candy cane rubbed against him, milking his orgasm until he was completely dry, then it slid slowly out, leaving him empty.

“Don't move,” Angel commanded, and Spike wanted to laugh. He didn't think he could so much as raise his head at the moment, even if his life depended on it. When the candy cane was laid back on the tray and hands turned him over and eased him down to the mattress, he let them guide him, sliding bonelessly at their insistence until he was stretched out in a wanton sprawl. He was distantly aware of the hands stroking over him, petting him like some kind of pet, but right now he couldn't really summon the energy to care.

It was worth the cold, worth the crowds and noise and wet to have Spike so compliant. Angel let his hands roam, relearning the planes of his childe's body like a sculptor honing a beloved statue. When blue eyes glazed over, he stopped touching long enough to stand up and strip his clothes off, then knelt on the bed over Spike once more. He'd forgotten how hot it was, seeing him like this, so pliant and willing, forgotten how much it turned him on to have his boy lying there for the taking. Wrapping one hand around his aching dick, he slowly stroked himself, kneading his way up and down one long thigh muscle with his free hand, coaxing the blond's legs even further apart.

When he felt his balls start to tighten, he gave his shaft one last squeeze, then eased down to the mattress, lifting one of Spike's legs over his shoulder. For a long second, he just looked at the tiny hole in front of him. It was hard to believe that something so small had been able to take his cock and fist, along with a number of other things over the years. Angel remembered how open it had been around the candy cane, and his lips curved in a smile just before he bent his head, tongue darting out to lick over the small pucker.

The first sleek caress jerked Spike back down from the cloud he'd been floating on, and with the second, he was struggling to raise his head, hardly able to believe that this was real. Angel almost never tasted him like this - usually one or both of them were too eager to get to the fucking to linger over this kind of play. He managed to look down at the dark head buried between his legs, moaning as the wet tongue teased him and then finally slipped inside for a fraction of a second before it withdrew and licked over him once more.

Angel smiled when he heard the soft moan, and he pushed his tongue forward again, then began to lick along the outside, tracing every single crinkled line of flesh with the tip of his tongue. The musky taste of Spike mingled with the peppermint and hot chocolate, creating a cocktail that could probably prove addictive if he let it. Luckily, he didn't intend to. But there was nothing wrong with savoring it right now, so he spread Spike open further, sucking and humming until Spike threw his head back with a tortured cry. That was all it took to tell him he needed more, and he wedged his shoulder under Spike's leg, shoving his tongue hard inside.

Spike moaned as Angel lifted his other leg up and started tongue-fucking him. His dick twitched, but the last orgasm had drained him and he knew it would be a while before he could get hard again. That didn't seem to be stopping Angel, however, as he backed off and slid a finger inside, stroking his prostate as he licked over his hole. It was strange, being so aroused without hardening, feeling the electrical tingles of pleasure that spread out over his whole body, yet still remaining soft. He wondered if he could come like this, and almost hoped Angel would try to find out.

Teeth scraped lightly over skin, the faint sting soothed by the last of a wet tongue as Angel indulged both his childe and himself with his leisurely exploration of the small hole that his entire world had narrowed down to. He slowly humped the bedspread as he alternated between fingers and tongue, filling and pleasuring his captive until at last he heard Spike groan, “Please... Angel... God, need to feel you!”

“You are feeling me,” he pointed out, scraping his nail over the blond's prostate, his tongue darting out to lick over the puckered edges of his hole again.

Spike squirmed, trying for more of that wonderful feeling. “Not like I want,” he panted. Christ, was the bastard _trying_ to make him come again without actually ever touching his dick?

The older man looked up, glancing along the length of the outstretched body with hot dark eyes. Giving his sweet spot one last stroke, he slithered up, letting Spike's legs fall off to the side until his sire's hard cock was pressed against his own. Rocking against him, Angel purred, “And how did you want me, hmmm?”

God, what he wouldn't give to have his hands back for just two minutes! He wanted to pull the dark head down, wanted to claw at the broad back that covered him, but he had to settle for simply glaring and spitting, “Wanna get fucked an' you know it, you soddin' ponce!”

“Somehow I don't think the one begging for a dick up his ass gets to call anyone else a ponce,” Angel pointed out with a grin. He bent to brush his lips lightly over the parted ones beneath him, teasing him with the promise of a kiss that was never really given, then drew back and reached for the extra cup on the nightstand.

Spike's eyes followed him as he dipped his fingertips in the chocolate, then knelt up to stroke his cock. After he'd repeated the gesture several times and he was coated in a thin film of the drink, the blond's control broke. “Fuckin' hell, that's just torture! C'mon, Angel, fuck me... please!”

“Well, since you asked so nicely...” he teased, chuckling softly as he poured another stream of chocolate down over Spike's balls, watching the liquid slide back to slick his hole once more. “And since it's just about Christmas... I guess I can give you your present early.” Lining his dick up, he thrust forward, sliding in with one lunge that made them both groan.

Once he was inside the velvet grip of Spike's ass, Angel could feel himself slipping. It wasn't going to last long, not for the first time, anyway. “Fuck, you're tight,” he grunted, pulling back and then shoving back in hard. “Gonna squeeze it right out of me...”

Spike moaned and tightened around him. “Yeah,” he breathed. “Wanna see you lose it, watch you when you - fuck! When you shoot up in me. Got so hard fuckin' me with that candy cane, didn't you, seein' me come like that, yeah?”

“Fuck, yeah. So hot seeing you open around it,” he growled, gritting his teeth as he started to fuck him harder and faster, the bed squeaking underneath them. “When you shot all over - fuck! I can't... Christ, Spike, I'm gonna -” He gasped and thrust inside as his cock hardened and then shot, long streams of come that left him braced on shaking arms, staring down into wide blue eyes when it passed.

“Jesus, you're beautiful when you come,” Spike whispered. He didn't know whether Angel kissed him to shut him up or because he was caught in the aftermath, but suddenly he was tasting chocolate and peppermint and something darker, something primal that he dimly realized was his own musk. Opening his mouth, his tongue slid out to wrap around Angel's, twining around it and enticing it back into his mouth when it slipped free, kissing him with all the skill that the older man had taught him over a century ago.

They kissed for long minutes, sloppy and wet, tongues tangling until Angel ground against him and Spike broke away with a choked moan. Big hands slid up his arms to catch hold of his own, and he felt the full weight of his sire as the first slow slide back and press forward took whatever remaining breath he had away. Then Angel's mouth caught his again and there was nothing to do but lie still and feel as Angel fucked him, so slow and sweet that he thought he might lose his mind.

How was it that the second time could be better than the first? Angel groaned softly against Spike's lips, his hips swiveling as he slowly pulled almost all the way out, then pushed forward until he thought they might melt into one being. He was harder now than he'd been all night, but the urgent need to finish was lacking, just the warm pleasure that seemed to spread outwards in a glow that felt like it might be visible. Looking would mean having to stop kissing Spike, though, and right now that was more important. He decided it didn't really matter, not when Spike sucked on his tongue like that.

There were no dirty words now, no frantic rush to reach the end, just the quiet sounds of kisses and careful movements that let the growing pressure inside simmer to perfection. When Angel pulled back from the kiss and looked down, he saw a dazed, almost frightened look that matched something inside him, something he'd been feeling since they first walked out of that alley. But he couldn't stand to see it, so he bent down for another kiss, something safe that wouldn't shatter him the way that look could.

Spike had lost all sense of time, of place and person and anything but Angel. Pinned between lips and cock, he surrendered completely to the seductive allure of his sire, and when at last he felt the fresh spurts of come wash up high inside him, it felt like the most natural thing in the world to moan out his love into Angel's mouth as he gave into his own climax. Bliss stole over him, his soul shattering into a million pieces as he came and came and came in what seemed like an endless cycle of ecstasy that left even his toenails limp and satisfied.

He was still trying to recover from one of the most intense orgasms he could remember when Angel slid out of him, leaving him feeling oddly empty. The soft click of metal filled the room as his restraints were released, and Spike immediately reached for his sire, but the older vampire had already moved away to pick his clothes up. “Get packed. We're leaving for London tomorrow morning to spend Christmas with Buffy.”

Without a backward glance, he walked out of the room, never showing any sign that he was in any way affected by what had just happened. Spike swallowed hard, closed his eyes, and briefly counted the days until New Year's before he got up to follow his sire's orders.


End file.
